


Cashing In

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bottom Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode tag: Smackdown Live 8-15-17, M/M, Rimming, mitb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 13:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12411087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: Corbin comes home to Dean after losing his Money in the Bank cash in match. Dean makes him feel like a champ anyway.





	Cashing In

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: A Lone Woof and a Gentleman.

"I want to do something right," Corbin said. "For once."

"Where's your briefcase?" Dean asked, rolling over sleepily in the bed, looking up to see Corbin come in. He winced and rubbed his taped ribs.

"Well. I did something wrong." He sat down heavily on the bed and pulled his knit hat off, setting it down on the bedside table. "You didn't see."

Dean squinted, and then sat up fast, getting his legs under him. "What the hell happened? I booked it home from the show, took a bunch of Advil, and passed out."

"Well, if I'm not lugging around a briefcase or a championship, you figure it out." He sighed heavily.

"Fuuuuck," Dean said, drawing the word out. "C'mere."

Corbin put an arm around Dean and drew him gently to his chest, resting his head on top of Dean's. He buried his nose in the top of Dean's head, getting the salt smell of his skin and the weird fruitiness of unfamiliar shampoo.

"Don't buy Herbal Essences," Corbin said.

"It smells nice, like a fruit salad," Dean said into Corbin's chest.

"You smell like a 1998 prom date," Corbin laughed.

"Oh, I wasn't old enough to go to prom in 1998, babe," Dean said. "Old man."

Corbin pulled back. "Old man?" He looked Dean in the eye. "Have I finally graduated from 'kid'?"

Dean smiled out of the corner of his mouth. "You *are* speedin towards your mid-thirties," he said.

"Not any faster than you." Corbin pressed his lips together.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Dean asked, sliding a hand up Corbin's back, under his tee shirt, gently pushing at it. Corbin let him peel it all the way off and toss it into a hamper.

"Another fuckin' title shot," he said.

"Championship opportunity," Dean said in a strained voice.

"Stop," Corbin said, shoving him gently.

Dean idly traced one of Corbin's swirling chest tattoos with his finger. "You said you wanted to do something right," he said.

"Mm hmm." Corbin nodded, looking low at Dean.

"You ain't going anywhere in the morning," Dean said.

"Yeah?"

"So. Do me. Do me right." Dean grinned. "Come on lone woof."

"You got a broken rib," Corbin said.

"Then do me gentle-like," Dean said. "Like a fucking gentleman."

"You've never fucked a gentleman in your life," Corbin drawled.

"How do you know that?" Dean asked, mock-hurt.

Corbin tilted his head, admiring Dean's sleepily handsome face, scruffy with an ungroomed beard. "Just pretend I'm your first," he said.

Dean bit his cheek to keep from grinning. "Deal," he said.

Corbin leaned in and kissed him then, guiding Dean into his lap. He kissed his mouth and felt their beards catch against each other and tangle tenderly. Dean tasted like he'd been eating those cheap gas station fruit candies again, the ones that taste like red and blue and green. Corbin smiled into the kiss.

He thought about all the things he could do to his lover and none of them struck him as particularly gentlemanly.

Dean moaned softly as Corbin broke the kiss.

"Lay back," he said. He tugged at Dean's soft, worn Rob Zombie tee shirt and pulled it over his head, next going to his boxers. Dean flailed his arms and legs loosely, like a rag doll, but he was naked and grinning so enough. Corbin liked him like that: spread out in front of him as laughing and defiant and half-hard as if you just slapped him across the face in the ring.

Gentlemen did not slap their lovers across the face in bed. Right? Maybe another time, Corbin thought.

He reached up to tie his hair back but it was still in a bun from the road and being up under his hat.

"Take it down," Dean said. "I like you with it down."

"Really?" Corbin said.

"Somethin' to hang on to," Dean said.

With an easy smile, Corbin untwisted the rubberband and shook it out.

"It's gonna get in the way," Corbin said, "but since you asked..."

"In the way of what?" Dean asked, brow furrowed.

"How clean is your kitchen?" Corbin cocked an eyebrow.

"You could eat off the floor," Dean said, "I mean. I cleaned up pretty good."

"Sounds great." Corbin laughed, his shoulders shaking a little, his head down. He lifted Dean's legs and put them over his shoulders, raising his body and revealing Dean's sweet ass, the skin smooth and pale, the flesh firm and gently trembling.

As he licked in Dean let out a keen, high moan like the first shock of being up to your waist in cold water. Corbin smiled and circled the tip of his tongue around the pucker.

Dean swore and clutched at a pillow.

Dean made Corbin feel powerful. Probably not on purpose. But being able to bend the man in half and make him scream was satisfying on a lot of levels and he was happy to do it any chance he got. Corbin felt himself getting hard and ground against the bed a little while he laved Dean's sweet, wet asshole.

"You motherfucker, why do you do this to me," Dean moaned.

"I'm a man who gets what he wants," Corbin said, trying to wish it to be true. "When I want to make another man scream, he screams."

Dean wrapped his legs around Corbin's neck, drawing them even closer.

"Watch your rib," Corbin said.

"I got it, this ain't my first rodeo," Dean said.

"I thought you were going to pretend it was," Corbin leered. Spit dripped from his chin and he stroked the tip of his finger over Dean's hole, pressing in just so.

"Oh. Well, in that case...oh my god, Baron, I never knew it could be like this," Dean panted. "Nobody treats me like you do."

"That's right," Corbin said.

"Please don't stop," Dean begged, his eyes alight with the same crazed glee that Corbin loved to see from him at work.

"Only for a second," Corbin said, lowering Dean's legs back to the bed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. He planted his feet on the ground and made a show of unbuckling his belt one-handed, whipping it off and letting it clatter to the ground with a flourish. Dean's eyebrows went up. Next, Corbin thumbed open the button of his jeans, slowly sliding the zipper down. He turned around, putting his back to Dean, and slid them off. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. He stayed bent over for longer than necessary to give Dean a good show.

"God damn," Dean said, pushing himself up on one elbow to get a better look at Corbin's toned ass.

"Is strawberry okay?" Corbin asked, starting to root through a drawer in the bedside table.

"You already told me I smell like a fruit salad, what does it matter?" Dean laughed.

“Consider that salad tossed,” Corbin said.

Dean laughed. “Oh, fuck you, that’s terrible.”

“You weren’t complaining while I was doing it,” Corbin said with a chuckle he couldn’t hold back.

“I thought you were going to fuck me like a gentleman,” Dean said. “No time like the present.”

Corbin rolled on a condom. “”Uh-huh.”

“I’m waiting.”

“I bet you are,” Corbin said. He drizzled lube into his palm and stroked himself with it, leaning against the ivory-papered wall of the bedroom.

“Jesus,” Dean said, flopping back against the pillow.

“You can wait,” Corbin said. “I know you want this, Dean. You can’t get through an hour of the day without wanting this. I bet you stay up at night wanting this, wishing you could have this all the time.”

Dean huffed.

“There’s nobody else like me, Dean,” Corbin drawled. “Nobody makes you feel like I do. And I know you’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Dean palmed his dick and leered. “I could just jack off listening to you jaw about how great you are,” he said.

“How would that be different from every other Tuesday night?” Corbin shot back.

“Aw, you know I’m watchin’?” Dean said, dropping his hands to push himself up on his elbows.

“Lucky guess.” Corbin stalked back over to the bed, eyes narrowed. He crouched over Dean and ran his slick hand over Dean’s cock and balls, stroking down to the tip and back up. Dean was caught off guard by the gesture and shivered all over, stuttering a response.

“This is mine,” Corbin said.

“Sure,” Dean gasped.

Corbin stroked him a few more times, enjoying the heft of Dean’s piece in his hand. “I like you underneath me, Dean. Feels good. Feels right.”

Dean grunted.

With a wicked grin Corbin moved on, fingering Dean’s asshole with his wet hand. Dean writhed on the bed, bucking his hips.

"And you're pretty," Corbin said without giving it too much more thought. He stroked himself and wiped his sticky hand on the sheets.

"You think so?" Dean said.

"Real pretty." Corbin grinned and it made Dean grin more, the dimple in his left cheek standing out even behind his scruffy beard.

"Gosh," Dean said almost without laughing.

Corbin got to his knees and put his weight on his knuckles, lowering himself down on top of Dean. He slid one rough hand up the outside of Dean's thigh and guided him into position, rutting up against the crack of his ass a couple of times before driving in smooth and hard.

"Ahh, ahh fuck, fuck," Dean said, his fingers catching in Corbin's long, dark hair. He got two fistfuls and held on. The hair was still damp from a quick shower taken hours previous.

Their foreheads touched. Corbin tried to leer or scowl or be anything other than sincerely and fully distracted by how much he loved Dean, and Dean saw right through it.

Corbin pulled away and Dean let his hair slip through his fingers.

"Tell me I'm the best you've ever had," Corbin said.

Dean took a breath like he was about to protest and caught himself. "You're the only one I've ever had, Baron Corbin, remember? "

"That's right," Corbin said. He sped up his thrusts and tried to angle them to hit the place inside Dean that made him froth and curse his orgasm through his teeth.

"Ow," Dean grunted, flinching, and Corbin immediately drew backward.

"Are you okay? Oh my god, I'm so sorry--"

"I got a broken rib," Dean cut in. "You just jostled me the wrong way. It's fine."

Corbin's hand went to the base of his cock, holding the condom in place as he withdrew. He took a deep breath and tried to slow his heartbeat, sitting back on his heels.

"Corbs," Dean said. He sat up, slowly, and reached for Corbin's hand. "You beat the shit out of people for a living. Relax."

"I don't ever want to make you make a face like that when I'm making love to you, Dean," Corbin said, his voice tight.

"Making love?" Dean said, smiling.

"Yeah," Corbin said, furrowing his brow.

"I think I need to drive for a while," Dean said. He inclined his head toward the stack of pillows. "Sit up."

Corbin took another steadying breath and then did what Dean said.

Dean gingerly crawled over and lowered himself into Corbin's lap, sinking down on Corbin's cock with ease and satisfaction. It brought both of their minds right back to the present. They moved in undulating waves with each other's bodies.

"You like that, pretty boy?" Corbin said, nosing the top of Dean's head, wrapping his arms around him in a gentle circle.

"Yeah," Dean sighed, lifting himself up and sinking down with each shallow breath he took.

"I could do this forever," Corbin murmured. He shook his head to get his hair out of his face and plastered himself against Dean. "I could make love to you forever."

"I don't think I could last forever," gasped Dean. "I'm not sure I can last another ninety seconds."

"Try for me," Corbin whispered. "Hold on."

Dean grunted softly and dug his fingernails into Corbin's back. He swore and shook. Corbin was steady and cool and colorful, his tattoos standing out against the sea of skin and white sheets, Dean's cheek pressed against a crimson heart and beating wings. Dean closed his eyes and bit his lip. He felt the bottom drop away underneath him and the rush of an orgasm catch him and surge up through his body, from the root to the top of his head. His skin broke out in goosebumps and he shivered. His eyes snapped open as he started to stripe Corbin's stomach with come.

And Corbin moaned wordlessly, rolling his hips once, twice, a few more times until he was shaking and falling backward into the pile of pillows, saying Dean's name over and over again like a chant, like something that would protect them both.

Dean eased back and got his legs back under him.

"Feel better?" He asked, breaking the silence. "Feel something? S'pose that's better than nothing."

"I feel great," Corbin said. "I feel like I just fucked my boyfriend to forget all my troubles."

"You're really good at that," Dean said. "Like, I think I might be a...like a connoisseur of comforting post-match sex, like it probably got me through my twenties, emotionally, but."

"But what?" Corbin knotted the condom and tossed it, cringing when he missed the trash can. Would have to get up and get that soon.

"Nobody else calls it making love other than you," Dean said. "You're so fucking sincere. Where the fuck did you come from? How are you like this?" Dean wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Well, I'm from Kansas City," Corbin said.

"That must be it," Dean said.


End file.
